


(i'm tired) can i sleep in your house tonight?

by abigailcathleen



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Cuddling, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigailcathleen/pseuds/abigailcathleen
Summary: When Billy stands him up again, Steve's pissed. But then Billy's at his door and Steve doesn't know what to say because he just looks—well,tired.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 15
Kudos: 254





	(i'm tired) can i sleep in your house tonight?

Steve slams his front door shut when he gets home from the quarry. He can’t believe Billy just _didn’t show._

Well, he can believe it, and maybe it’s his own damn fault for continuing to go. Sometimes Billy doesn’t show up even though he’s the one who slips a note in Steve’s locker with _meet me at 9_ scrawled on it. He doesn’t even acknowledge it when they see each other at school next; he just avoids eye contact like usual. 

Steve waited a whole two hours tonight, because sometimes Billy’s just late and mostly Steve’s just hopeful. Probably burned through the whole battery in the Beamer just trying to stay warm in the December weather. Whatever. 

His house is empty as usual so it’s like the slamming of the front door reverberates. Steve swears he can hear the noise bounce off the walls and through the hollow hallways. 

Steve chances being stood up most of the time because he feels just like this most of the time. Like noise reverberating through an empty house. Saying nothing and going nowhere. Heard by no one. 

Because it’s nice to be pressed up against someone even if they’re not really saying anything to each other. Even if the only noise is their bodies coming together or the squeak of movement across the leather seats or the little breathy moans Billy lets out when Steve goes down on him. Even if Billy only responds to Steve’s usual _hey, how’s it going?_ with a grunt and a forceful push against the hood of the car before sucking on his neck. 

It would be nice to be seen or cared about or heard, but he’ll take being touched if that’s what’s being offered. At the very least it tires him out enough most of the time that he can sleep through the night. 

He stands in his kitchen for a while, staring blankly at the wall and sipping on a Coke, when a knock at the door startles him. It’s well past eleven at this point. Who the fuck is knocking on his door? He curses himself for keeping his bat in the trunk of his car. 

He just goes back to his Coke but then the knocking is back and it’s _louder._ Steve creeps silently to the door and dodges the windows so he can look through the peephole and—

It’s Billy?

Steve throws open the door, ready to reem him out, but Steve stops in his tracks when he gets a good look at him. 

He doesn’t look _terrible,_ looks like there’s not much more than a cut above his eyebrow and a black eye starting to form. But he looks rough. He looks done. 

Steve can piece it together enough. He opens his mouth but doesn’t know what to say. 

“Uh,” Billy starts, voice low. “Know I, um. Know I left you hangin’ tonight. But, uh.” He scratches behind his neck and looks away from Steve. He looks nervous. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Billy look nervous. “Could I. Could I stay here tonight?”

Steve still hasn’t found the right words, so he just nods.

“Do you, um,” Steve says when Billy steps into the foyer. “Need anything? Water, or something?”

Billy just shakes his head and moves past him. “Is your room…?” He nods at the stairs. “Not to, like… I’m just. Just tired.”

Steve leads Billy up the stairs and down the hall to his room. Billy turns towards Steve’s closet and pulls off his shirt and pants while Steve gets down to his t-shirt and boxers. Steve doesn’t quite get why considering he’s seen him naked dozens of times, but then Billy’s turning slowly around to reveal the bruise blooming across his ribs. 

“Shit…” Steve curses. “Billy…”

“I don’t—is it… can we just go to sleep?” Billy says. His eyes look wet around the edges, open and pleading. Like he’s begging. “Please?”

Steve didn’t think Billy even _knew_ that word. When Billy wants Steve to get his mouth on him or his fingers deep inside him, he doesn’t ask or beg, he _demands_. Steve’s fine giving it to him then. Tonight Billy’s voice is soft and broken and the way he asks is tender and unsure. Steve’s got no problem saying yes. 

But instead of saying anything, he just walks over to his bed and turns down the covers, motioning for Billy to crawl in while he shuts off the lights.

When he gets in beside Billy, he leaves a deliberate space between them. Billy usually decides what they do, even if it makes Steve roll his eyes sometimes. Tonight he really doesn’t mind. 

There’s only the sound of the sheets shuffling when Billy moves closer to Steve, tentatively pressing himself to Steve’s side. Steve tentatively gets his arm around Billy’s shoulder so he can press further if he wants, which Billy does, surprisingly. For a second, Steve is stuck in the thought of _we’ve never cuddled before_ but the hiss of pain that passes through Billy’s lips takes him right out.

“That bruise,” Steve whispers, “you okay?”

“Yeah, just… need a second…” Billy whispers back. He settles himself further into Steve’s side slowly, then loops his arm around Steve’s waist. 

Steve feels selfish for thinking about how nice it feels to be held like this. To hold Billy like this. 

But maybe Billy’s thinking how nice it is, too. He’s not usually one with words, but Steve’s started to understand how to read the signs from his body. And right now he can feel the way Billy’s body releases some of its tension and sinks further into Steve. Can feel the tightening of Billy’s fingers around his waist. Understand what Billy’s trying to communicate when he presses his nose into the crook of Steve’s neck.

Steve hopes that Billy understands what he means when he tightens his arms around him, careful not to disturb the bruise, when he presses his cheek into Billy’s curls and syncs up the rise and fall of their breaths. When he turns ever so slowly to press a kiss at the top of his head. 

That he’s thankful that Billy trusts him. That Steve sees him and cares about him and he understands, even when Billy doesn’t say a word. 

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'class of 2013' - mitski  
> [abigailcathleen](https://abigailcathleen.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
